Father Material
by HaraKyri
Summary: Matt wasn't sure he was cut out to be a father Matt & Molly paternal drabble.


Matt wasn't sure he was cut out to be a "father". He wondered if it was a talent that a man was born with, not something he could acquire. Maybe that was why Janice had left him, even though she was pregnant with his child. Maybe she had detected the lack of parenting skills in him and taken the child elsewhere. He'd tried reading books, searching the internet but nothing seemed to be giving him any clues in what to do in his situation. They didn't seem to be helping Molly any either.

She wasn't sleeping well. Each night he would keep a bedside vigil, vainly hoping to deter the "bogeyman" that visited her dreams and tormented her at night. But his efforts were wasted as the bags deepened under the young girls eyes and she began falling asleep in class often. She became moody and sullen, her temper often simmering to boiling point with anything capable of setting her off. She preferred to stay in the dark apartment that he and Mohinder shared, drawing dark pictures with those ever present eyes.

On a Sunday afternoon in February, Matt decided that Molly needed to go outside more. Marching over to the table in the kitchen with his work boots on, he seated himself on the edge of the table where the little girl was currently drawing her latest masterpiece.

"Let's go to the park." He suggested lightly. Molly ignored him, just reached a hand towards his knee where the brown pencil crayon had rolled to a stop.

"Did you hear me Molly? I said let's go to the park." He pushed, picking up the nearest blue crayon and twizzing it between his fingers like a tiny baton.

Molly didn't look up or pause in the repetitive hand motion involved in colouring. "I heard you. I don't want to go the park." Matt grinned, raised his hands in the air, the blue crayon still trapped between his little finger and forefinger and proclaimed,

"She speaks! Oh wondrous sounds!" At the disapproving glare the child gave him as she finally raised her head to meet his eyes he sobered up, "Sorry, just joking." Molly went back to colouring, her face so close to the paper Matt was sure she had to have been cross eyed. "Look Molly, you've not played out for weeks, I'm surprised you know what the world looks like beyond the route to school and back. We are going to the park!" The angry tone didn't seem to be the way to convince the child so he resorted to desperate measures. Out of season bribery. "I'll even buy you an ice cream?"

That seemed to get her attention. Her head raised a little, and the frantic colouring ceased. "Strawberry?" She asked quietly, Matt grinned and nodded in an almost maniacal manner, elated at this interaction.

"Sure! And I'll even get you a flake in it and you can have as much strawberry sauce as you want drizzled all over it." He was rewarded with a shy smile.

"Alright, then. Where're my shoes?"

The early morning frost had not yet dispersed from the ground so Matt had ensured Molly wore her complete winter gear – woolly hat, gloves, scarf and thick boots. Despite the cold he had remained true to his promise and Molly clutched an ice cream cone in her left gloveless hand, the pink glove hanging limply out of her pocket. She took a tentative lick and shivered at the cold feel on her tongue, but her lips twitched into a smile anyway.

Matt strolled lazily at her side, his long loping strides counting for just one of Molly's quick half dash steps. He was unsure of how to start the conversation, unwilling to break the uneasy truce they had developed between them. But he knew it wasn't going to get solved in silence,

"Molly…" He began, trying to get her attention first before he plunged headfirst into the point that was nagging at him. She looked up, cheeks rosy in the cold weather, a smudge of the strawberry sauce on her chin. "Molly, we need to talk about your nightmares," Immediately her head snapped down, quick enough that Matt wondered how she didn't get whiplash. He didn't want to continue, knowing it would just rile her temper, but he'd started now and he wasn't going to back down. "You can't not talk about this, Molly. You've been falling asleep in class! It's not healthy."

"I don't want to talk about it. It's not your problem. So just leave me alone!" Her voice had risen to an almost shrill pitch, and a nearby duck squawked indignantly and moved away.

"Please Molly!" Matt begged, reaching down to grip her arm in desperation to prevent her escaping. Panicked, she wrenched her arm away. The swift motion left her unbalanced, and she stumbled to the side, falling into a small patch of nettles.

Horrified Matt stepped back, eyes wide, staring at the little girl on the floor, ashamed that he had caused her to become in that state, and for a moment they were both frozen.

Then the stinging of the nettle on the back of her hand registered to Molly, and a tear welled up in her eye, before falling and slipping down her cheek. It was followed by another, and another, and then the dam burst and Molly dissolved into sobs, hugging herself on the ground..

The sight of Molly crying seemed to flick a switch in Matt's head, propelling him to move. He quickly knelt down by her side and folded her up in his big arms. She stiffened at first, before burying her head in his shoulder soaking his brown coat with tears. Time seemed to stand still as Matt simply held the young girl in his arms, rocking her slightly until her sobs became hiccoughs, and then until she stopped making crying altogether, and the only sound was her deep breathing. Worried, Matt shifted her so he could look at her face to determine if she was okay. But his fears were unfounded, Molly had simply fallen asleep.

Aching knees screaming their protest at being on the cold ground for so long, Matt steadily climbed to his feet, careful so as not to disturb Molly from her impromptu slumber. Scooping her legs up in his strong arms and holding her close Matt began walking home. He gazed upon her face again as she shifted, murmuring a soft "Love you," into his chest. He smiled and whispered "I love you too," in return.

Maybe he wasn't such a bad father after all.


End file.
